


Lovely, Dark and Deep

by aliatori



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Bargaining, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, my first G rated fic hot diggity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 03:15:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16077203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliatori/pseuds/aliatori
Summary: “What’s the price for such valuable knowledge?” Noctis asked, hiding his racing heart and keen interest behind a layer of sarcasm.“Your magic.”Noctis and Gladio meet by chance and strike a bargain, but somewhere along the way, the terms change.





	Lovely, Dark and Deep

**Author's Note:**

> written for day one of Gladnoct week, mercreature AU

The last thing Noctis expected on his afternoon sojourn away from the Citadel was to lose his best fishing rod to a disgruntled mer, and yet…

Here he was.

All things considered, the snapped remains of his composite fishing rod bobbing in the water were the least of his problems. Far more pressing was the _massive_ mer in front of him, golden scaled forearms braced on the pier, braided black hair dripping a steady stream of water onto the faded wood below him, double rows of wicked teeth bared in a snarl.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” The gills under his sharp jaw fluttered as he spoke, the words buzzing with a strange vocal fry, one that Noctis was certain he’d remember for the rest of his days, if only for the way it vibrated along his skin and set his heart racing.

“Uh… fishing?”

It wasn’t Noctis’s most eloquent response.

“Casting that far will yield you nothing except an angry mer,” the creature snarled, his Lucian grammar oddly formal. The mer rubbed the heel of one sharp, clawed hand, webbing visible between the fingers, across his shoulder, and it was only then that Noctis noticed his wound, an ugly gash torn into the unscaled flesh.

“I didn’t know your people came this close to Insomnia,” Noctis said cautiously, eyes fixed on the wound. He waited a few moments before adding, “I could fix that for you.”

“You? You can’t mean to tell me a landwalker who barely knows how to reel in timid eating fish has a useful skill?” The mer laughed, a throaty, bubbly sound eminanting in equal parts from his mouth and gills, and though it was the first time he’d heard a mercreature’s laugh, Noctis could sense the arrogance in it. “Though you did wound me to begin with, so it would only be fair.”

Maybe it was the insult to his fishing skill, or maybe it was the heated overconfidence in the creature’s laugh, but Noctis, Prince of Lucis, a young man who wasn’t even supposed to _be_ fishing at this secluded pier, doubled down on his recklessness in a flash of anger.

He summoned forth the magic of the Crystal, grabbed the mer’s shoulder, and wove threads of healing light around the gash.

Two effects were immediate: the wound from Noctis’s errant fishing hook knitted itself, and the mer thrashed violently, gigantictail sending a cold wave of water rushing over Noctis and the pier in a flash of rose gold scales.

Noctis _should_ have been angry. Key word, _should_.

“You’re…” Noctis began, teeth chattering from the sudden chill of his drenched clothing, “pink.” And then he began to laugh.

The mer stared, bright golden eyes baffled, blinking slowly in double time, transluscent membrane following the physical skin.

“It’s true what they say. Landwalkers really are a special kind of stupid.” The mer twisted the last word into a gurgling hiss.

Noctis laughed harder. “Nice… nice meeting you, too.” His strange hysteria over the massive, growling, muscled mer being pink whipped into a frenzy, causing Noctis to wipe tears from his eyes. “Same time next month?”

With a snarled phrase in what Noctis could only assume was his native tongue, the mer thrashed again, soaking Noctis in icy lake water. The creature disappeared underneath the surface of the lake, leaving no trace of his presence, not even a single ripple of motion.

Later, once he was safely back in the Citadel (thanks to a long running deal with his personal guard, Nyx), Noctis wondered if he’d imagined it all.

* * *

He had not imagined it.

“What are you doing here?” Noctis demanded, arms full of fishing tackle and newly purchased rod tucked under his arm. “Didn’t you have enough fun last time?”

The mer hauled himself onto the pier, golden scales rippling and claws digging into the wood for purchase. The late afternoon sun cast glimmering, erratic patterns over his rose gold tail, the fins of which idly swished back and forth where they dipped in the water. From this angle, Noctis could see when the warm pink began to fade out of his markings, transitioning to pure, deep gold along his back and arms. He could also gauge the size of him properly, a faint stirring of fear brought to life by how _enormous_ and muscled he was.

“I think you and I could strike a bargain. We both have something the other wants.” The mer tilted his head, a slow smirk spreading across his bestial face, twisting a pale scar over his left eye that Noctis hadn’t noticed before. He wore his hair in a single braid, coiled high on the back of his head, bits of shells and coral woven in.

“What makes you think I want anything you have?” Noctis asked, guarded, but he placed his fishing tackle on the pier and stepped closer to the mer. He swallowed as he stood eye to eye with the sitting creature, twilight blue meeting burnished gold.

“I’ll show you good, secret places for catching eating fish,” the mer said, pointing one clawed finger at Noctis’s gear. “And though I doubt the lessons will stick, I can teach you better techniques than landwalker ones.” 

So few people ever interacted with merfolk. Noctis’s father only met with their spokesperson once a year, renewing the agreement between Lucis and mer of merfolk sovereignty. They were intelligent, dangerous, fiercely protective of their own kind, skilled hunters and scouts… and above all, secluded, preferring to keep to the depths than interact with Lucian society.

“What’s the price for such _valuable_ knowledge?” Noctis asked, hiding his racing heart and keen interest behind a layer of sarcasm.

“Your magic.”

Noctis’s blood ran cold with fear as his heart beat faster, pounding a dizzying rhythm in his chest. If there was one lesson drilled into him, time and time again, it was to be incredibly cautious with the Magic of Kings; more powerful than the ordinary magic many Lucians could access, it could spell disaster if used for the wrong reasons.

“Why?”

The mer hooked his claws beneath a necklace he wore, glass beads and bright seashells woven together to form an elegant piece of jewelry. As he held it out to Noctis, he noted the pendant dangling at the end was made of tiny skulls fused together to form an ‘X’.

“I want to be able to shapeshift and walk among the landbound. My research yielded a ritual to imbue this necklace with that ability, but I need landwalker magic as well. Three times, each time when the moon is at her fullest.” The mer ticked off points on his viciously sharp fingers as he spoke. “Fire, lightning, ice… the elemental magics of Lucis.”

“What will you do with it?” Noctis said, accepting the necklace from the creature and letting it hang from his fingers.

There was a long pause, and then the mer turned his face from Noctis. “I’ve heard your city has a large library. I want to visit it.”

For the second time in two months, Noctis was shocked into laughter, shattering his fear. “You want to grow legs… to visit a library,” he said in disbelief. “You don’t have books of your own?”

The mer gnashed his teeth at Noctis as he snarled out a question. “Do we have a deal or not, landwalker? If so, use your magic, as the moon is full today… if not, give me my necklace back.”

“On one condition.”

“What?”

“Tell me your name.”

* * *

His name was Gladio, and he dominated Noctis’s thoughts for the entire month leading up to their next meeting.

He’d used his magic as Gladio had asked, bathing the offered necklace in magical fire, the first of three offerings. In exchange, Gladio had swam along the lakeshore—taunting Noctis about how slow he was all the while—and led him to a spot he assured Noctis would yield more, better catches.

Noctis had returned to the Citadel with a cooler full of fresh fish, handed it to a surprised cook, and went to his chambers, contemplative.

Now, being driven to Galdin Quay by an increasingly curious Nyx, Noctis wondered if he was making a mistake. Gladio was… enticing. He couldn’t put his finger on _why_ he wanted to see him again so badly, why he would agree to lend his precious magic on a whim, but he did.

Night had fallen by the time Noctis was able to sneak away from the resort and head out to the many fishing piers, walking past a great deal of them in his search for the most distant one.

He found Gladio waiting for him after a half hour journey, golden eyes bright in the moonlight.

“Took you long enough. I thought you’d abandoned our deal,” Gladio said, hair unbound and cascading down his shoulders, grin feral and wild.

“It’s not exactly easy for me to get here,” Noctis complained, tossing his fishing gear on the pier and sitting down with a heavy thud.

“Poor landwalker, having to use your electric machines to travel great distances,” Gladio replied, giving a playful flick of his tail and spraying Noctis with a light sheen of water. “I don’t envy you Lucians your... technology.”

“It’s called a car, and you drive them,” Noctis corrected with an eye roll. “And that’s not the hard part.”

“What could be so difficult about spending an evening by the ocean?” His gaze had turned curious now, his golden scales taking on the pale light of the moon as he removed his necklace and handed it to Noctis.

Noctis hesitated. It was one thing that he’d agreed to lend his magic to Gladio’s ritual; confessing that he was a prince and heir to the kingdom of Lucis seemed to test the limits of his bravery. “I’m…” Ugh, it sounded self important even in his head. “I’m sort of a big deal in Lucis. I can’t just go wherever I want, whenever I want, not without people asking a lot of questions.”

He expected a rebuttal or teasing from Gladio, but Noctis got neither. Instead, the mer appeared pensive, gills gently flexing and eyes shimmering. “You and I share a common struggle. My presence is missed as well.”

“What, they don’t want you talking to _humans_?” Noctis asked, grinning. “I have been wondering how you learned Lucian in the first place…”

“Some of my people are allowed to talk with landwalkers,” Gladio said, dark brows furrowed in thought. “As for how I learned your tongue, a close friend taught me, one who regularly interacts with your kind. I…” Gladio’s claws, gold and sharp, cut through the air in a curt line. “I am a fighter, a great one, and people see little value in my curiosity, only in the arc of my trident and the blood I shed.”

Noctis shuffled on the pier, discomfited. Instead of responding, he summoned his magic and flooded the necklace in his hands with ice, the second of three moons worth, and offered it to Gladio. “So why do you really want to shapeshift?”

Gladio placed the necklace over his head, the pendant resting in the cleft above his sternum. Before he spoke, he met Noctis’s eyes, wide pupils swallowing their halcyon hue.

“Strength comes in many forms,” Gladio said, “and in knowledge more than most.”

Noctis rolled his eyes and jabbed a fist lightly into Gladio’s shoulder, pretending his serious, otherworldly tone hadn’t shaken him to the core. “So serious. You must be fun at parties.”

Gladio smirked. “Perhaps I am. You won’t ever find out, though.” His gaze turned to the horizon. “Come. I’ll show you a place further down the shore the landwalkers ignore. Try to keep up this time.”

* * *

Month three arrived.

The salt tinged ocean air and the crash of the waves steered Noctis’s thoughts to Gladio, of his brilliant metallic scales and confident, wild smirk, and before he knew it, he was jogging down the shore, having barely remembered to grab his fishing gear.

Since their last encounter, he’d been trying to come up with a way to extend their deal, stretch it out for another month or two. He thought… he _knew_ his feelings went deeper than he anticipated, could sense it in the bright eagerness flooding his body at the mere idea of being close to Gladio... 

No. No point dwelling on that.

By the time Noctis reached the end of the pier, Gladio had turned to face him, only his broad shoulders and neck exposed above the water’s surface.

“There’s no need to run,” he said, but he smiled as he spoke, tucking a long, wet strand of hair behind a pointed ear with the tip of a claw. “After all, you have the last of the magic I need.”

Noctis’s stomach dropped to his feet. Right. The magic.

“Well, last time you got all annoyed when I was late, so I was trying to save myself a lecture,” Noctis muttered, clinging to his fishing tackle like a lifeline.

Gladio laughed, a low, vibrating thrum. “Good to see you’ve learned your lesson.”

“The necklace?” Noctis stood at the end of the pier and thrusted his open hand downward, waiting expectantly.

“No need to be so impatient,” Gladio said, smile melting into a lazy smirk. “I thought tonight, I could show you the fishing place first.” His vertical pupils were wide as he met Noct’s gaze. “You’ll need to trust me to carry you there, however.”

Two conflicting instincts warred within Noctis. On one hand, wet clothes aside, being close to Gladio excited him beyond words. On the other…

“How do I know you’re not trying to kidnap me?”

Gladio rose up higher out of the water, rose gold scales glimmering under the surface. “If I wanted to drag you beneath the waters, Noctis, I would have done so already. Do you not trust me?”

He shouldn’t.

“I do trust you,” Noctis admitted, quiet and hesitant, pulling the brim of his cap lower over his face.

Two strong arms ending in two clawed hands lifted up towards Noctis. “Then join me.”

After one deep breath, Noctis stepped off the edge of the pier, falling with a splash into Gladio’s waiting arms. The warm ocean water was more pleasant than he expected, but it didn’t compare to the heat of Gladio’s body, to the slide of scales beneath Noctis’s palms, to the gentle way Gladio braced his webbed hands on Noctis’s hips.

“Well?” Gladio asked, and this close, Noctis inhaled the subtle, briny musk that he associated with closeness to the mer. “This will work best if you ride on my back. Don’t tell me I’ve broken some landwalker taboo.”

Noctis snorted and rolled his eyes, though the effect was somewhat lessened by the fact that Gladio was holding him afloat. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he murmured. Taking hold of Gladio’s shoulders and awkwardly positioning his body flat against Gladio’s rippling back, he wrapped his arms around Gladio’s neck, his legs barely managing to encircle the mer’s thick waist.

“Hold tight,” Gladio said with another amused, burbling laugh, and then he began to swim, powerful tail propelling them forward.

Noctis spent the entire ride overcome with a sense of marvel, his discomfort vanishing as quickly as it had arrived, lulled to nothingness by the gentle motion of the waves and the reassuring strength of Gladio beneath him.

He must have drifted off, because after closing and opening his eyes, they approached an island.

Geography wasn’t one of Noctis’s strong suits, but he knew there were tiny islands all through the Quay, as myriad as stars—and Gladio had brought him to one of their own, secluded under the streaming light of the moon. He blinked sleep from his eyes as Gladio swam closer; when they approached the shallows, Noctis let go, his bare feet—the flip flops must have been lost to the sea—finding purchase on the ocean floor.

He trudged forward towards Gladio, who had settled on the bank of the island, all eight feet of him sprawled along the shore, the fins of his rose gold tail barely reaching the ocean waters. It was the first time Noctis had seen the whole of him, and here, bathed in silver moonlight, he looked more dangerous and wonderful than ever.

Except…

“I didn’t bring my fishing gear,” Noctis blurted.

Gladio met his gaze, braids clinging to his shoulders, a fierce cast to his savage features. “What gave you the idea that I brought you here to fish?” he asked, propped up on his elbows.

A blush flooded Noctis’s cheeks even as his feet propelled him forward, beckoned by the crook of one golden-clawed finger. Suddenly, his sopping wet clothes didn’t bother him, or the chill from surfacing out of the ocean—all he wanted was to be close to Gladio again, and his wish was granted when Gladio drew him into his arms, leaning back so Noctis lay atop him.

“You’re an incredibly dangerous habit,” Gladio said, using the tip of one claw to brush a wet plait of Noctis’s hair from his forehead. “And somewhat annoying… and still a poor fisher… but fascinating.”

Noctis swallowed, his hand finding Gladio’s necklace and making a fist in it. Before he lost his nerve, he placed his lips against Gladio’s, and kissing him was just like in his dreams, the touch filling him with all the raw, primal power of the sea.

“Why,” Noctis whispered, trickling the thinnest bit of lightning magic into Gladio’s necklace—the amount didn’t matter, only the presence—and filling the air with static, “do you want this magic?”

One massive hand slid up the back of Noctis’s shirt, the tantalizing brush of claw sending a shiver through his body.

“So I can see you again.”

* * *

One month passed. A month turned into two. Two turned into three more, and by the end of the third, Noctis’s hope fled, leaving only a broken heart in its wake.

It could have never been, but he’d believed…

Noctis sighed and set down his pen, and as he did, a knock sounded at the door, the deep brown wood creaking open to reveal a servant, dressed in royal Lucian black.

“Your Highness? Your two o’clock audience is waiting in chamber three.”

“Who was this one, again?” Noctis asked, sliding the chair under his desk and taking one last, wistful glance at his laptop, longing for the refuge of games to stop his mind from churning.

“They didn’t say, Your Highness, though they were cleared of any security risk by Crownsguardman Argentum.”

“Thank you, Elisa. I’ll head that way now.”

The luxurious halls of the Citadel had always felt empty to Noctis, but in the past few months, they’d felt downright hollow. At least there was always work to be done as Prince, Councils to attend and audiences to grant, which kept him busy, albeit reluctantly.

An elevator ride and two long corridors later, Noctis arrived at audience chamber three, the room identified by a label in neat script beside it. He straightened his posture, adjusted the collar of his shirt and the lapels of his suit jacket, and entered the room. A single man awaited him, one Noctis had never seen before.

“Good afternoon,” Noctis said pleasantly, hands clasped behind his back.

Then the man met his eyes, and Noctis _knew_ , knew before the first syllable left his lips. “You’re so formal here in this big palace. Never would have guessed.” The words lacked the same vocal distortion, but the timber was exactly the same, a rich bass that buoyed Noctis’s spirit.

“ _Gladio?_ ” Noctis stage-whispered, stunned into motionless disbelief.

As Gladio closed the gap between them, Noctis took his human form in piece by piece: the shaved sides of his head and wild hair; the golden lines covering muscular, brown arms in a facsimile of his scales; the incredible height granted by long, human legs; the easy, open grin. 

And of course, the necklace, beads and shells and tiny skull cross exactly as Noctis had left them.

“I told you I’d see you again,” Gladio said, placing a very human hand under Noctis’s chin and tilting his face up. “You didn’t believe me, though, did you?”

“I…” Noctis said, dazed, momentarily lost in the sensation of Gladio’s amber, human eyes on him, scar still in place. When he regained his composure, he started again. “Pretty rude to keep a prince waiting this long.”

“Who says I came for you? I just need directions to the library,” Gladio responded, the sting taken out of the teasing by the affectionate warmth in his voice.

“Tell you what… I’ll show you Insomnia’s library _and_ the Citadel’s private archives for a price. A trade, you might say.”

“Name your price, _Your Highness_.”

“A kiss,” Noctis began, his lips curving upward in a sly smile, “in an audience chamber, on a fall afternoon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are appreciated if you enjoyed.
> 
> Come find me over on [Tumblr](http://aliatori.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AliatoriEra).


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